What Makes Us Who We Are
by letmefallasleep
Summary: "Just when Carol thought that she was wrong, that he wasn't going to say anything, he finally blurted out the words that just about broke her heart. The words she couldn't stop herself from thinking about now as she stared at the white flower, and the man standing next to them, proud, but still a little awkward." Carol/Daryl comfort, lot of angst thrown in.


A/N: Alright so... Seeing as how I've already posted two one shots, I might continue this later. Might as in... Maybe, but not for certain. As of right now, consider it a one shot. Just a thought I had about the scene where Carol and Daryl are staring at the Cherokee Roses by the pond.

Warnings: Implied past abuse, lotta angst.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. If I did, it'd be 'Daryl Dixon along with some other people' instead of the Walking Dead. : )

* * *

_What else I got to do?_

Carol knew she shouldn't read anymore into those six words than what Daryl obviously meant for her to hear. He'd meant it to hide some of the emotion he'd let her see. Emotions that he'd clearly been embarrassed by.

She should just take it at what he wanted her to take it as, and stop over-thinking. Stop over-complicating. Just leave it be.

But she couldn't. As she glanced over at him, taking notice of the cuts and burns decorating his arms, thinking of the scars hiding beneath the thin vest-shirt he wore… Part of her wondered if looking for Sophia was the only thing keeping him going anymore. The only thing he had left.

She wasn't a fool. From the moment the Dixon brothers had set foot into their camp –Lord, it seemed like it had been years ago now –she'd known that the younger brother was damaged. After their first night in camp, Carol hadn't been surprised when the smaller of the two brothers had walked through the camp the next morning with a slight limp, and a black eye. Found herself wondering if he'd gotten them because he wanted to stay, or because he wanted to leave.

When he'd come back a few hours later, proudly hauling a deer carcass with him, he'd dropped it at her feet. Reminded her of the cat she'd had for a few months, always bringing her grotesque gifts in a twisted desire for attention.

"That kid a yours is too damn skinny," He'd muttered gruffly, before stalking off again.

While his lazy brother had sat with Ed down by the lake, laughing and joking –_and it wasn't much of a surprise that those two got alon_g –Daryl had spent most the day hunting, bringing back half a dozen squirrels, four rabbits, and a few birds. When it'd turned out that none of the women in the camp had known how to clean his gifts, he'd muttered something about horses and mouths, before setting about showing them all how to gut and clean them. How to get the best meat off.

Afterwards, grumbling under his breath about_ finishing a job_, he'd shown them how to cook it.

She'd seen the set look on his face when his brother had yelled out about 'Darlena' being back in the kitchen where he belonged. She'd heard both Merle Dixon and Ed laughing, and seen how embarrassed it'd made the younger man. So she'd done the instinctive thing, and set a hand on his shoulder.

She'd been shocked at his reaction. Faster than she could follow, he'd spun around, grabbing her arm, and had her in a choke hold before she could even take a breath.

Ed had stood, angrily. First time he'd paid any attention to her all day. But before he could move, Daryl had released her, staring first at her, and then his hands in horror.

Merle had just laughed, pulling Ed down to sit next to him again, saying something about 'Darlena' being easily spooked, and not to worry. How 'Darlena' didn't have the guts to do what needed doin' sometimes, and he knew Ed understood what he was talkin' 'bout.

Carol would never forget the shocked look on Daryl's face as he slowly backed away from the fire –away from her –his mouth moving like he wanted to speak, but nothing coming out.

She hadn't seen him again till later that night, after she was washing up the dishes from the first real meal the group had had in weeks. She'd been down by the lake, silently scrubbing, when his quiet voice had made her jump.

"Ain't safe for a woman to be out here on her own at night."

When she'd turned to look at him, he'd purposely avoided her gaze. Not knowing what to say, she'd just stared as the man shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, his jaw moving occasionally as if trying to find the words he wanted.

She wasn't sure how long they stood there. Seemed like an eternity.

Finally, just when Carol thought that she was wrong, that he wasn't going to say anything, he finally blurted out the words that just about broke her heart. The words she couldn't stop herself from thinking about now as she stared at the white flower, and the man standing next to them, proud, but still a little awkward.

_You shouldn't touch me. Don't like it much when people touch me._

He'd disappeared right quick after that. Looking back, she wasn't even sure she seen him leave. One second he was there, the next he had faded off into the darkness.

Pushing the past back where it belonged, she turned fully to the young man who was her only lifeline. The man who had to know –just as she did –that no matter what they said, or what they pretended, that Sophia was dead. That he wasn't looking for her little girl anymore. That he was looking for a corpse.

"Daryl… No matter what you think," She started slowly, "I just want you to know… We all need you here. I need you. I… I don't think I would've… I would've made it these last few days without you. And… No matter what happens… I appreciate everything you've done."

She felt her heart break just a little bit more as he shifted his weight around, clearly uncomfortable. "It… It ain't nothin'," He said dismissively, staring down at the ground.

"Don't you dare say that," Carol said softly, taking a step closer to him. True to form, just like the scripted song and dance this was becoming for them, he took a hasty step back. "You've spent the past _week_ out there, looking for my little girl. A girl who isn't any kin or relation to you. You got stabbed, you fell down a cliff… You got _shot_ looking for my baby. You nearly killed yourself all over again this morning trying to go looking again. It wasn't '_nothing'_, Daryl Dixon. It was something. It was _everything_ to me. And I just… You need to know that… I mean to say that…" She took a deep breath, before plunging in. "I couldn't have done this without you. I would've sat down right there on that highway and died if it weren't for you."

His eyes were huge by now. At least, what Carol could see of them, seeing as how he still had his head down, like the grass beneath his feet was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. After clearing his throat a few times, he finally glanced up at her, before letting his gaze slip back the way they'd come from.

"We should… We should get headin' back. The others probably startin' to worry 'bout you."

Silently, she nodded, unwilling to embarrass him further. She'd fallen in behind him as he lead them back to camp, neither one speaking.

But all she could think was… What had his life been like that this man who killed walkers without hesitation, this man who threw himself into danger without regard for his own safety was so damn afraid of any hint of affection?

And did she really want to know?


End file.
